My Buddy Mike

I remember the first time I hung out with my buddy Mike. As I made my way through the thickly forested woods, leaves crunched under my shoes and a kaleidoscope of shapes played across the ground from the sun shining through the leaves. There he was, sitting on his pile of wood chips. I went and stood next to him and watched the afternoon fade into evening. We were both be slightly sluggish after lunch, but he sleepily blinked his big brown eyes and acknowledged me with a grunt. I nodded hello back at him, and together we watched the birds flit from tree to tree, the clouds roll across the sky, and the forest breathing a sigh of relief after the hot summer sun started packing up for the day.

My summer at the Vince Shute Wildlife Sanctuary was the most extraordinary summer I ever had. I interned there, feeding and caring for the dozens of black bears that lived around and passed through our stretch of the North Woods of Minnesota. We lived in cabins deep in the woods, with no running water. What little electricity we had came from car batteries and was used sparingly. Any supplies came from the nearest town, Orr, a 30 minute drive away. We were truly in the wilderness, but we were never alone.

Bear are funny critters, which is hard to keep in mind when watching two males tear at each other for dominance. It’s also quite nerve-wracking to put down a scoop of seeds and nuts while a 500 pound wild animal is making a beeline for you. But seeing bears nap, play, and curiously watch you as you repair something they’ve broken, gives you a different perspective.

I came across the sanctuary by luck, by Googling “internship bears” and clicking on the first link. But I went anyway. I think that’s how you discover hidden gems: by stepping out of your comfort zone and looking beyond the typical experience. Look for an adventure, and that’s where you’ll find the places, and the memories, you will never forget.

It was nice getting back to civilization. You realize how much you take showers, electricity, even civilization for granted only after you leave it all behind for a while. I miss the place though, and I miss my buddy Mike a ton. I often look at this photo I have of him, sitting on his woodpile with a traffic cone under one arm, grinning at the camera. I made a lot of good friends that summer, but Mike has a special place in my heart. I wish we could have kept in touch since I left, but you can only ask for so much from a bear.